


Getting Close to Him

by sugarcookiesandmochi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boss x employee, Boss/Employee Relationship, CEO, Crushes, Cuddling, Cute Reader, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, No Angst, Romance, Sub Female, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Romance, clumsy Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 08:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30035847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcookiesandmochi/pseuds/sugarcookiesandmochi
Summary: I created a fictional crush out of loneliness :')A soft, cute story about an employee at a banking firm somehow getting the ice-cold CEO of the company warm up to her. I honestly have no idea what's going on and it's mainly patchwork pieces (some plots connected and some aren't). Enjoy >o<
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Reader
Kudos: 2





	1. Part 1

You hear a firm rapping on the chocolate-colored door. A mix of “bam” and “knock”. You’re fatigued and moody from a long, stressful day at work, caused by someone who has been - problematic - for you at the company. Struggling to find motivation to even get off the couch, you reluctantly sauntered over to the door; dressed in a mint-colored, oversized office blouse that fell to your thighs. But you couldn’t care less. The weather made the world feel like an oven’s interior, even though it was already 5pm in the evening. It was hot, you were tired, and besides, nobody visited you except your best friends from around the city. Having the loose top on was the feeling of freedom mixed with your own imaginary sexiness. But obviously changing, then getting the door would take too long. Weakly twisting the door handle, you opened the door waiting to hear the tea of your other coworkers. It was either Soraya, on the budget team, Raquel, from Contracts & Grants, or Scarlett, also on Budgets - all who visited you regularly. You, Soraya, Raquel, Scarlett, and Yvonne were a dangerous quintet.  
But, it wasn’t your friend – it was the exact opposite. It was Theodore Wells, your icy, stern director-now-CEO.

~~~~~flashback~~~~~  
You both were in the financial department of the company. You worked as an actuary on the rather small risk-management team, so your team reported right to the director (dictator as Asif or Nick - the other two actuaries - joked) of finances, Theodore Wells. Since graduating from university only two years ago, you were lucky to land a job at a banking firm; calculating risk for portfolios, investments, and assets.  
On your first day after getting hired, you’d made acquaintances with the almost 60 coworkers in the financial department. Everyone so far was friendly, or they were just understandably busy. Then, you had to meet the director. The Contracts manager, a friendly lady, had shown you around cheerily, then “ditched” you at the door of Mr. Wells, hurrying off with a wave. ‘Is he scary?’, you thought, an anxious feeling surfacing about your new boss. Knock, knock. ‘Enter’, said a deep, chilling voice. You stepped into the impeccable office, more like a huge suite. ‘Hello, I’m-…’ you were cut off. ‘Here are your tasks, if you need anything don’t ask me, ask one of the other managers. Reports are expected of you weekly.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ You said, backing out quickly. You already knew the type of boss he would be. After you’d shut the door as lightly as possible, you processed his features from your short-term. Though sitting down, he was almost as tall as you, with neatly slicked-back, light brown hair, a neatly pressed suit, neatly sharp jawline, and neatly long, veiny hands. Everything about him was just… neatly intimidating. Even though he looked younger than thirty, he already commanded the respect of a senior member of the company. Wait, he was in a high position though. He didn’t bother to glance up at you once, unfortunately, so you couldn’t see his eye color.  
From there on, you’d always have a little butterfly in your stomach, and you’d always dress a little nicer on the day where you presented your weekly report with the other actuaries. He was impatient, impeccable, and quite frankly, insufferably emotionless. The other coworkers had lives, and you bonded with them quickly, but there were a few ‘good days’ to Mr. Wells too. The most he’d done for you was graciously allot extra time to finish a project, when you were overloaded with a jumble of work and personal matters. He knew because he could read anyone like a billboard; you couldn’t hide much from him.  
Today, you had been there for a good year and a half. The firm had a smooth (most of the time) environment, the salary pretty good for an entry-level worker like you. It was also the company’s anniversary, and usually it was now when major promotions were announced. You’d been hoping for a promotion, just like everyone else on your team. That day, the CEO announced he was retiring. Applause ensued for the leader of the company, whom you barely interacted with. You wouldn’t miss him that much, but you sure were eager to hear who his replacement would be. Most definitely one of the several directors of the bank’s different departments.  
They announced leaving coworkers, some whom you were sad to see go. They also commenced with celebrations to another year of business, and finally came the promotions. You dozed off for a while as they named new managers, all until they named the new CEO.  
“Congratulations, Mr. Wells!” the retiring CEO boomed. The whole room burst in applause. He grinned slightly, but still retained his usual emotionless expression as he strode to the front. It wasn’t really a walk though; as he was the director of the largest sect of the bank, he sat right next to the former CEO. Everyone watched him give a short but meaningful speech about how he would keep his predecessor’s ethics and lead above and beyond – or something. ‘At least he’s the curt and decisive type,’ you thought to yourself.  
After a few minutes of more applause and congratulations, they named the new director of finances. Samuel Hart. You audibly gasped, your expression going from bored to shocked. You immediately shut your mouth because it drew the attention of the people beside you. And somehow, Theodore had such great hearing he looked at you too – your eyes meeting for just a second. You turned your gaze downwards and sideways, unconsciously pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as well. ‘Samuel Hart, you mean Sleazy Sam?’, you continued in your mind. You were absolutely fine – perfectly perfect with anyone else. But the guy who was always sleeping when you passed by his cubicle? And when he wasn’t sleeping, he sure loved complaining. Out of all things, you’d even – fought – with his lazy ass today. He’d always been quite prissy to your two other associates on the team, and especially harsh with you. Frankly, you didn’t even know what you did wrong. 

***********  
Earlier that day, you were called to his office to discuss your work on analyzing a new portfolio for a client. Mr. Hart informed you that you placed it in a wrong folder, and there was one minor error. He made his opinion of your work extremely excessive and loud, so loud that the whole floor could probably hear it. But after five minutes of that, you cut him off. “Mr. Hart, I am a human! I make mistakes! But for you to be acting like a haughty, omniscient weasel when you barely do anything but sleep at work – I’m telling you to shut up!” Your eyes flared with anger, and you stormed back to your desk. He would most certainly do something to damage your reputation after that.  
Your coworker, Yvonne, came over to your cubicle shortly after. She hugged you as you cooled down from the outburst. “You’re amazing,” She stated, bringing a smile to your face. You nodded with thanks. “Come on. We have to go to the conference room to hear who’s getting promoted!” she winked and took your arm. The two of you stood along the walls of the room when you entered, as the 24-chair conference table was only for the superiors of the company. Even though it was a nice, spacious room, most of your associates in Finances and HR were present. This turned the 60-person capacity conference center into a squished den for 100.

***********  
Impossible. If they were going to choose Sleazy Sam, you should’ve gotten that promotion. Yes, he had 12 more years of experience at the company, but you were way more productive than him for sure. “Oh my goodness, why him?” you thought, but now, accidentally out loud. You instantly covered your lips with your palm, as if that could recall what you said. ‘Ms. Bellevue, you had something to say?’ asked none other than Theodore Wells. It was too late to back down now; you felt his eyes drilling into you - coercing you - for an answer. In that one moment, you came to several realizations.  
“Wait a moment,” you thought at first. ‘Mr. Weasel – yuck – being promoted meant Theodore was being replaced. Or promoted. Probably the latter. But it’s now or never to expose Weasel.’  
You began your speech. “Out of all people you could have promoted, you promoted Mr. Hart? Firstly, he’s always asleep in his cubicle! And when he’s awake, he’s not only a prick to my team but to the rest of the department! He treats people like inferior trash!” you protested, continuing: “Anyone else here would be a better director than him!”  
As you looked around, several coworkers were nodding in agreement, to your relief. At least you weren’t facing all of your superiors alone.  
“If you’d like to protest about his treatment of you, you can file a complaint with Human Resources. If you’re so unhappy, just leave now.” Your new CEO commanded, evidently pissed at you for interrupting – his – big day. And for the first time you saw his real eye color. If green could be icy, that was it. His gaze made you feel chills, and you realized yet again that your impulsive defiance would cost you.  
You were deathly afraid to reply, but you had to say something, so you declared the biggest lie in your life. “Congratulations, Director Hart. And congratulations, Executive Wells.” You mustered the most indifferent tone you could, grabbing your purse in a hurry, striding out the room with your head high. And with all eyes on you. Then came the regret – you realized that you just disrespected your new director, and Chief Executive Officer Theodore Wells, who wielded the most power in the whole entire bank now. ‘Might as well go to look for a new job.’, you seethed, high heels clacking against the marble floor as you scrambled out of the building.  
On the subway ride back to your apartment, a silent tear slipped down your face. You quickly brushed it away with a finger, hearing a notification sound from your phone.  
Yvonne had texted you the rest of the tea that you’d missed. Mainly about the other promotions and stuff. Asif had been promoted to fill Mr. Hart’s place as manager of Risk Management and Contracts & Grants.  
‘Thank you,’ you texted her back. ‘Did they gossip about me after I left?’  
‘Nope.’ She replied. ‘They went on like nothing happened, fortunately. I think everyone kind of agreed with you, and you sure have my support ;).’  
You didn’t want to talk about today anymore, so you replied with a smiley emoji. You were close enough with her that she knew to let you be for a little while. 

~~~~~~~~~~  
At first, you could only see the broad chest of a man donning a suit, until you gazed upwards to match his height. Your jaw dropped in surprise – real, terrifying surprise. Your new (or former, but you hadn’t received any calls notifying you of your termination) CEO, standing right there. Upon instinct, you slammed the door, but an insanely quick push back and you were slammed into the wall to the side of the door.  
At that moment, you felt a bit lightheaded, anxiety and frustration clashing inside your heart. “Yep, I’m fired, they even sent him to give a personal notice,” you thought. Though you expected this, it was still a major disappointment to you. With the mess that was made, plus your anxious state, you felt your pulse thumping through your brain. Turning your head too quickly, you lost your sense of coordination and balance.  
Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft “thump”. Both your hands slid against the wall as you leaned heavily against it.  
“Are you alright?” he asked, in a tone you’d never heard before.  
“I need water. Please.” You whispered, but he heard you and complied. That may have been the first request you had of him. Drinking water calmed you and cleared your mind. After you were settled down on the couch with his aid – as he had a hand hooked around your waist as you walked over to it – he sat across you on the wooden table.  
You began, “Executive Wells, I presume you’re here to fire me?”  
“If I was going to fire you,” he began, “I would have had someone else from HR call you.”  
“Then… Why are you here?” you asked.  
“I’m here to offer an apology. Firstly, for pushing the door a little too hard. Second, for embarrassing you earlier today.”  
You were dumbfounded. Your bottom lip parted in shock. Out of all the craziness that had gone on that day, you would have never guessed your new CEO would personally visit you, and even “offer an apology”. At first, you realized he had your address, which was startling news. But then, you recalled that your phone, email, address, everything was in the company records, and as director, he could probably request this without hesitation. “I‒”, you stuttered, at a loss for words. “I suppose I must apologize to you as well. It was extremely uncalled for me to protest your decision like that. I’m sure I ruined the mood for everyone else. You’re very capable... to… lead our company. But… Why promote Samuel?” You finished, drifting off into a mumble.  
“I know I’m not your first choice. I was surprised when they announced it as well, since I’ve only been at the firm for 10 years, and there are others who’ve worked there for longer. However, I am unaware of their real reason, but if that is the Board of Directors’ wish, I must comply. Regarding Samuel,” he said, stifling a grin at the fun nickname, “He’s been instrumental in assisting Contracts & Grants, even though he does less for his role in the Fiscal team. Sam stays up to discuss with international clients – you might have noticed he likes to sleep in the office because of that. And is cranky sometimes.”  
You sip your water, contemplating the new information. Finally, you started to speak. “So… since I’m not fired, do I still have to complete the Sears project report by tomorrow?”  
“Yes.”  
“Damn,” you muttered, standing from your spot. You motioned for him to take your place, as your small studio apartment couldn’t allow for two couches. Then, you got your laptop, and kneeled by the low-rise table. “I’ll have to apologize to Sleazy – I mean, Samuel. I just hope I see less of him.” As you typed in the passcode, you noticed the time. 6:39pm. “Did you have dinner? I’ve wasted so much time by talking. Usually, it’s only my friends who visit.” He shook his head, and somehow conveyed that he did indeed want something. As a dutiful employee, you grabbed random ingredients off the shelves of your pantry and began to cook.  
Thirty minutes later, you set two bowls of noodles in front of the both of you. “I hope you like it.”  
After a few tastes, he critiqued, “It’s too plain.” You sighed, teasing, “alright Mr. Food Critic,” and brought in the salt and pepper over as well.  
“Better?” you inquired.  
“I haven’t had someone else cook for me in a while. It’s good food.”  
“Good?” you scoffed, taking the dishes. “I, personally, thought it was delicious.” Theodore smirked in response, stealing your laptop from the table and unlocking it.  
“There’s a pass – how do you know my password?” you gazed in shock.  
“Glanced over to the keyboard, as you were typing. You were even facing sideways.” A moment passed, your lips still parted in astonishment. “What did this guy major in? Computer science?”.  
Commenting on your work, he said, “The presentation is visually appealing. But there’s a miscalculation here,” he pointed.  
“Oh.” You exclaimed, moving around the table to inspect your work. “He solved this in his head?”  
“Yes, I solved it in my head.” He replied to your thinking-out-loud again. Usually, you were self-controlled, and reserved. But today, you were pretty impulsive, and you hoped it wouldn’t get you into a deeper hole of trouble while Mr. Wells was still here.  
A while later, after adjusting the presentation to his corrections, you glanced at the computer clock. 10:00pm. “Your wife – or partner – should be worried about you by now.”  
He laughed, the sound ringing through the entire little space you called home. “I live alone.” He stated.  
You smiled awkwardly. “I thought you were 37 with a wife and children. I mean, you’ve been at the company for 10 years so I figured you were at least that age...”  
Theodore smirked with amusement, gazing out the single window onto the city skyline. “I am 31, but without a wife or kids.”  
“Oh! Well, I tried to make a reasonable guess based on how long you’ve been here… You’re very young to be promoted to such a high position!” You gushed, a little shy at making this remark.  
“At least I’m not 37.” He sarcastically said, glancing back at the wall clock and folding his hands together.  
You scowled and glanced at the clock again with him, silently pondering when he was leaving. More like dreading. His company was so much more exciting than any one of your friends could provide.  
“I think I’ll get going now.”  
“Wait!” you interrupted confidently - yet filled with nervousness for what you were about to say.  
“Yes?”  
“Don’t you notice that it’s hailing outside? Your car must be a ways from the entrance of the apartment building too. If you want to wait it out here, you’re welcome to.” Your heart thumped in your chest, and you clutched a pillow to it for no explainable reason.  
I’ll take up on your offer.”  
In response you nodded, secretly rejoicing at not getting rejected tonight.  
“Of course I’m not scared,” he interrupted. “It gets lonely at my penthouse and I wanted to celebrate my promotion.”  
“By going to the home of the person who interrupted your promotion? And forfeit hosting a party at your own mansion?” You giggled, not bothering to hide your own hilarity now.  
“A party takes time to plan. I’m a busy man.”  
“Here, I’ll bring out some drinks.” You enthusiastically poured two glasses for you and Mr. Wells, and as soon as he drank it, his head cocked to one side and he inquisitively stared at you. “This isn’t real wine. It’s grape juice.” He stated lamely.  
“Of course not,” you exclaimed, putting the grape juice bottle back in its cozy place on one of the fridge shelves. “I don’t drink wine – I’ve never liked the taste of that, soda, beer, and I certainly don’t want to drink with a male boss over.”  
“Smart girl.”  
“Theo– I mean Mr. Wells, I’m 21…” you protested, flush returning to your cheeks. “Why the hell am I getting those daddy vibes?” you asked yourself, half-unnerved, and half-delighted by the thought.  
“Why, that’s barely drinking age.”  
You scoffed. “Screw drinking at all. It makes fools out of people. I’m going to shower; don’t you dare do anything funny or I’ll beat you up. I do martial arts.” You were making silly threats like with a friend; and you two had become closer in just an evening.  
“I’ve done judo as well, for your information.” He said, evidently trying to flaunt another asset of his infinite list of attractive qualities. “But I won’t bother you.” The sound of a laptop clattering on the table physically startled you as you headed off, your shoulders raising a bit like a scared cat. Theodore smirked again as he watched you back away from him.  
When you emerged 20 minutes later, it was almost 11pm. “Mr. Wells, if you need them, here are some pillows and blankets,” you said, pulling out spare grey comforters and cream-white pillows sitting in your closet. If you’re hungry, my fridge is at your disposal. You can leave whenever you wish; but I’m a heavy sleeper on the weekends;” you finished speaking, pouring him another glass of juice and one of water.  
“Thank you.” A rare phrase coming from him, but his focus was elsewhere. Intently on you.  
Glancing down towards your slippers, you stealthily inspected yourself again. “I’m only wearing my favorite silk slip dress. Nothing special…”  
“Goodnight, Theodore?”  
“Yes. You may call me that… in private.” He emphasized the last part, shifting his gaze back to the laptop he had pulled out of his suitcase.  
You nodded your head like a puppy, and turned to saunter off to your bedroom, plopping onto the bed.

**************  
When you awoke the next morning, he was unsurprisingly gone; probably already at the company to work on a… Saturday. On the table, your phone lay there, and when you turned it on there was a text notification.  
“Thank you for your hospitality. You should change the password on your computer – it’s really too easy to guess.”  
“He’s genuinely a hacker, I swear.” You muttered out loud to yourself. The sofa looked exactly like it did before the surprise visit. Now you were alone again; yearning for some company like he offered last night.


	2. Part 2

You shut the door - literally as softly as possible. Even putting your finger between the door and frame to ensure the door closed quietly. It was already 9pm at night, and you just left your hotel room in just a swimsuit and towel for the pool.   
Your company had allowed a vacation for the employees in the finance department, and some-thirty of you were in Switzerland right now, at a luxurious resort. Your roommate, Raquel from the contracts & grants team, was such a great travel partner – taking photos and selfies with you and accompanying you to places. Unfortunately, the only downside was… she snored.   
And that’s why you left for the 5th floor of the resort; which overlooked the snowy Swiss slopes. It was freezing, but you’d researched the place ahead of time and decided you couldn’t miss the view of a pool over the white-blanketed wonderland. Finally, the elevator brought you down and you rushed to the pool, sliding your room key over the monitor for entry. Surprisingly, the whole area was heated; you could feel warm air breezing past you. “Luxurious!” you thought, a smile spreading over your visage. The sound of flip-flops clattering against the polished wood floors didn’t faze you as you practically sprinted towards the water. Towel, shoes, phone, thrown on a beach chair. The view astonished you as you gazed around the illuminated water. To the left, the amazing marble architecture of the hotel was marvelous. The entryway behind you was a wooden archway decorated by pine; accented with tints of gold-colored leaves and red berries. Not one window was without a charming little balcony, vines tangled around the curving bars and elaborate stone floors. The building itself was of marble-like stone, rivaling a palace. Below the pool, the lights of the small town below, like fireflies against a white canvas. Mountains surrounded the town on both sides. To the right, the steaming hot tub and–   
Your exciting intake of scenery was suddenly disrupted by the presence of the person there with you. As soon as you made eye contact with your boss, you gasped sharply and hurried to grab your things.   
“Why are you leaving?” He inquired, tilting his head slightly back, while laying his muscled forearms on the edge of the hot tub.   
“I… I don’t want to bother you, Mr – I mean – Executive Wells…” you stuttered, mildly disappointed that you had to forfeit the nighttime swim.   
“You don’t have to go. And I thought we established Theodore already.”   
“Oh! Well… if you don’t mind,” you said, a distance away, slipping a foot into the pool water. You instantly retracted it, upon feeling the frigid temperature. You realized that the heaters fooled you and the warm air was probably from the hot tub. Hurriedly, you rushed to the source, already chilled by the night and winter despite the heaters. On the opposite side of the considerably large hot tub, as far away from Mr. Wells as possible, you slipped in. The water came up to your neck at you seated yourself on a ledge. Your hands crossed in an “X” shape across your chest, partially for warming your shoulders; partially for modesty. If it was a friend, you wouldn’t have cared. But you donned a not-skimpy, but not-modest-either swimsuit in front of the CEO of the company you worked at. A wave of relief passed through you when you turned to see that the hot tub had a great view of the slopes as well. The only problem now… the awkward silence.   
“Um…,” you began nervously, “What brings you here tonight?” you asked, attempting to break the tension.   
He turned from being sideways to facing you now. Being much taller than you, the water only went up to his chest, where he was seated on the other ledge of the hot tub like you. “Don’t blush”, you told yourself as you tried to divert your attention from his ripped abs to his sharp, distant eyes.   
“I wanted to see the view here for myself.” He replied, his gaze slowly melting from his usual plain cold to slightly friendly. “Is he warming up to me?” you questioned inside.   
“Oh, me too!” you exclaimed. “I’ve never been to Switzerland, and it’s amazing here. My roommate was snoring way too loudly, so I simply left the room. That’s why I’m here so late, if you’re wondering.”   
Theodore’s expression formed his signature smirk, and he cocked his head slightly to one side. “I love having a suite to myself.”   
“You should let me stay with you!” you joked, instantly regretting it. You forced a laugh, and anyone could probably read the lie in your expression. Your eyes scanned the whole lounge to ensure no eavesdroppers were there.   
“I suppose I should return the favor.”   
“I was joking–”  
“This is a serious offer. Snoring roommates are the worst.” He stated, tilting his head to the other side now.   
“Does it have a great view?”  
“I’m staying in the grand suite of the hotel. Is that even a question?” He chuckled at your cluelessness.   
“Let me grab some things from my room right now. My roommate’s a heavy sleeper and I’ll sneak right past her.”  
“Room 2301.”

*********************  
The view was amazing indeed. A picturesque snowscape, but you were 23 stories higher now, which made the whole sight a hundred times better. The room was the perfect balance between comfortable and luxurious. Even the floor was so nice, covered by spotless rugs and faux fur. You could honestly hit the hay right there. About its size – no question. It was the grand suite after all.   
“Am I allowed to sleep on the floor?” you inquired, the first words after saying “thank you” for being let in.   
“Why? There are 2 king beds, 2 reclinable chairs, and 3 couches.”  
“But the floor…” you sighed, wrapping a corner of the rug around you.   
“Choose a spot or you can go back to your snoring roommate tonight.” He ordered.   
“Okay! Spoilsport,” you began, but once you plopped into the couch, not even the other bed, you were not inclined to get up. “I take that back,” you said, feeling the material of the couch sink under you, drawing you in. Why did you like being told what to do by him?  
“For the nice view and nicer couch,” he stated, “You’re welcome.” Then, every light in the room suddenly became dim, revealing an eloquent astrological map of stars on the ceiling. There were constellations, comprised of stars represented by unnoticed tiling with an unusual glow. Even the borders of the map were gorgeously lined with gold ribbons of paint, and you wondered how you missed it when you walked in. There were like 3 parts to the suite though.   
“This is what being rich gets you?” you sighed again, full of longing. “I want to be rich.”  
“Work hard, don’t disrespect the CEO and you’ll make something closer to my salary,” he taunted.   
That reference. “Stop it!” you fired back with a sour expression. Now the dimmed lights were taking their effects out on you. “I’m tired. First day of three is already over,” you thought, trying to clear the dejection from your head. Traveling was one of your favorite hobbies – making people jealous of your adventures on Instagram, getting to admire foreign culture, meet locals, eat wondrous food, and most of all, enjoy your time with your coworkers. “And surprisingly, my boss.”  
As you drifted to dreamland, you felt a warm blanket being draped from your shoulders past your toes. Even the butterflies of a girl in love were coaxed to sleep. 

***********  
All of a sudden, you were awake, and the windows streamed sunlight into the grand suite. It took you a few seconds to realize you had been offered the couch last night. “Or I chose it, though there was another bed.” However, when you saw the time, you cursed out loud. It was already 10:32am, way past the continental breakfast’s hours. A missed chance for delicious free food was a nuisance. And nobody else was here. “He probably got his breakfast,” you thought jealously.   
You lazily rolled off the couch, onto the carpet. Despite its softness, there was surely something wrong with your back and neck. Glancing back, the gaps between the cushions must have put your back in an uncomfortable position. And of course, there was a crook in your neck as you had slept on one side.   
Suddenly, the door opened and the room’s owner stepped inside. “What are you doing on the floor?” he asked, clearly amused. “I thought you slept on the couch.”  
“If you had let me sleep on the rug, I wouldn’t have all these problems!” you exclaimed, motioning to your tilted neck.   
“I slept on the couch at your place and had no problems. But, I have a solution.” He said, walking over to where you were. Suddenly, you realized his intentions: he was going to straighten you up. Literally. Uncomfortable with this thought, you stood up and walked around the couch away from him.   
“I’m okay, it should go away by itself…” you suggested nervously with a forced laugh.   
“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you're afraid of. Come here.” He commanded, still following you around the room.  
“I’m really great, thank you.” You were passing corners – hopping onto and over the bed, going about the couches and tables – like a baseball player, scurrying away as the chase ensued. As you looked back, you couldn’t see anyone. He had disappeared?   
Someone placed their hands around your neck, startling you out of your wits. Within seconds, without giving you time to even react, a small “crack” sounded as your neck felt way more comfortable in place.   
“See, that wasn’t so bad?” Theodore stated. But your mouth was agape with shock, despite the fact that you agreed in your mind.   
“I thought you were going to dislocate it!” you complained, still spooked by the mini-chiropractic appointment. A smirk stuck to his face.   
“Are you going to get breakfast?” he asked, out of the blue.   
“Where?” you inquired. “The continental breakfast at our hotel is closed by now…”  
“I’ll take you somewhere. Hurry up.” Without another word, he left the room.   
In the bathroom, you changed into your outfit for that day, a strawberry-patterned summer dress, with spaghetti straps, a v-neckline, and a ruffled hem. As a fashionista-at-heart, wearing cute clothes always made you feel cheery. And of course, you wanted to look decent compared to the impeccable suits, regardless of casual or formal, that your boss always wore.   
Before you left the room, you checked your phone.   
“Where are you?” your snoring coworker had texted you.  
Unafraid to be blunt, you replied, “You snored last night, so another coworker lent me a place ;).”  
Another notification popped up. “I don’t have all day. Lobby.” The text was unsurprisingly blunt, and you grabbed your shoes in a flurry. Down at the lobby, you could tell which car he was in instantly. A lavish one, despite being a rental. He wore sunglasses and the usual suit shirt, without a single crease on it. He gazed towards you as he saw you exiting the hotel through his window. He cocked his head, in the motion to “Hurry up”. You hadn’t bothered to admire his outfit during the goose chase in the hotel room. As you entered his car, you put on your shoes after buckling the seat belt.   
“You didn’t even have time to put on your shoes?” he asked. “I gave you ten minutes.”   
“I’m a woman, Theodore.” You jokingly scowled at him.   
The café the both of you ate at was so… fancy. It had a sleek modern design. “I knew he’d choose a place like this,” you thought to yourself. The tiles were checkered, and the interior had a vintage mixed with a modern theme. Of course, it was 5-star food. Once you finished eating, (though he had finished 10 minutes before and was reading a newspaper), he motioned for you to walk out with him.   
“What about the check?” you asked, stunned that he’d leave without paying?  
“I paid in advance and let them keep the excess as tips.”  
You’d almost forgot that he was no ordinary guest. He was a rich guest.   
“Well… thank you for the breakfast.” You remembered the sweet taste of the best breakfast – pancakes, Danishes, rolls, with fine jam and syrup – you’d ever relished before. “I can pay you back later.”   
He lightly scoffed, continuing: “I doubt you’d want to pay. But that won’t be necessary.”   
“Oh – thank you again then. It was truly amazing.” You replied, grateful you hadn’t seen the prices on the menu. As you were still paying off student debt (though almost clean), you were still very reluctant to spend much.   
“Where are we going now?” you asked him as you strolled back to the car.   
“Snowboarding.”   
You gasped with excitement. “Really?” Though still considered a beginner, you loved snowboarding. 

*********  
The rest of the day was spent with you following him down the snow-draped mountains of Switzerland. You could hardly keep up, but he was patient with you the whole time. Theodore gave you many tips and even caught you before you face planted on the more difficult bends. Eventually, you suggested the two of you split up, to let him go on the really challenging slopes.   
While he was at that, you returned the rental gear and wandered into the nearby shops. Two, in particular, caught your attention – the first one a souvenir shop. He’d been especially generous to you today, never acting like this in the company. It was like he was almost happy spending time with you. Then you thought, “Any time he doesn’t work should be a relief. Even workaholics need time off,” you thought to yourself. But anyways, you bought him a mahogany-colored book on the history of Switzerland. It would match the hues of his office – grey, black, brown, if he didn’t bother to read it at least.   
The second was quite unique. It had a make-it-yourself theme, and it was an art and crafts shop. You walked in, enticed by the creations of others lining the display shelves by the window. There were beautiful, adorable, elegant – every type of wondrous emotion embedded in these handiworks. “I have to make something for him!” you said to yourself.   
They knew that you were serious when the helpers at the tables asked you who the gift was for. You were making candles, and a slight blush covered your complexion. “My boss.” You replied, trying not to flush even more. The employees didn’t know where you worked anyways.   
There was a cube-shaped candle, and the second was the same shape but longer vertically. You chose the midnight black wax and watched as the helper poured it into a mold and cooled it in a blast refrigerator. When it was time for you to decorate it, you arranged the candles on a tray with the shorter one on the left side of the tall one. Another wax – silver and glittery, was melted to drip on the sides of the black candles. Finally, the piece was embellished with tiny silver leaves sprinkled onto the tray. They were fastened in place by drops of glue. The helper bagged the candles for you, winking. You thanked her for helping you keep the gift a surprise. You just hoped that he’d like it– and even think of it worthy enough - to put it on a shelf in his grand office on the top floor of the company establishment. You’d spent a good hundred euros today for him; on this present and on his history novel. “Probably less than half of what he spent for me, but he's rich after all.”   
*********  
Both you and him met at the collection of eateries by the snowy mountains. “How were the ‘dangerous’ slopes?” you began, approaching him with three bags slung on your shoulders.   
“They’re not dangerous once you get used to them.”  
“I feel like you’re showing off to me!” you protested, staring one last time back at the skiers and snowboarders whooshing down steep paths. Just like the way you caught a glimpse of him taking out the - whatever they called them - difficult level slopes with ease. “That confidence will get you injured someday.”   
Laughing his rare - but signature laugh at your concern, Theodore took the gift bags to ease your burdens.   
“Don’t look inside them until I tell you to!” Though both presents were concealed under wrapping paper, you still wanted to ensure that they would be somewhat of a surprise.   
“Whatever you say,” he replied; unlocking the luxury rental car as the both of you slid in, heading for an unknown - at least to your knowledge - destination.   
*********  
Dinner at a quiet, charming little restaurant pleased all five of your senses. Its dining balcony had an unrivaled view of the golden-orange sun setting over the town. Your meal might have been sunkissed itself; given the golden-brown appearance of the meats and bread and their delightful and savory tastes.   
Small talk ensued between you and your boss, but it was mostly you just gushing on about how wonderful of a day it was. Sadness crept into your thoughts that it was almost over.   
All of a sudden, the waiter poured two glasses of wine - a dark red hue; forbearing the approaching nightfall. “Wait,” you began, “aren’t you driving us home?” you asked Theodore.   
“Yes.”   
“Why would he order the wine if he knew he was driving? Maybe they just automatically give it out?” you pondered nervously.   
“I… I mean it’s probably very expensive… and I don’t want it to go to waste.” Proceeding to drink a sip of the first glass was your only option.   
Your eyes widened immediately as the wine sparked each one of your brain cells. “It’s so… sweet! It’s like drinking grapes and lemonade and getting an energy boost!”   
“How do you like it?” asked your companion, who was observing you through the entire first experience.   
“It’s unimaginably refreshing. And sweet. And I have a sweet tooth, so it all works out!” You downed the first glass within two minutes, following shortly with the second.   
“Glad to hear that.”  
******   
You both rose from your seats after the waiter brought back his card. “Merci beaucoup…” you slurred a little, casting an uneasy smile while grabbing the table behind you. Only later would you realize that his look was a “That’s your problem” look at Mr. Wells.   
With a hand around your torso for support, Theodore escorted you cautiously out of the restaurant. By the time you reached the parking lot, he’d carried you for the second half of your short walk. Because at some point, you almost stumbled down the incline of the sidewalk as you teetered down a hill. He’d given up on helping you walk and had already hooked his arms under your knees and shoulders.   
He placed you in his car’s passenger seat after it magically unlocked and opened itself with the push of a button on the key.   
******  
Finally you both sneaked into the top floor of the hotel; and Theodore was relieved no recognizable faces were in sight. You were too busy complaining about how tired you were. “Theo… door… aha… door… I lied!” you joked with a sleepy expression at the pun in his name. “I’m very… exhausted. Can I go to sleep yet?”   
“We’re almost there,” he stated, and in your stupor, you heard the door handle unlock and felt the warmth of his hotel room cascade over you. It had unsurprisingly become cold in the evening and your summer dress was some wrong-season attire.   
“Mmm…” you sighed softly with contentment as you were laid down on a cloud-soft surface. Lights were shut off mysteriously, covers were pulled over you precariously, and this was the best slumber you’d had before in your life.   
******  
You were graced with a headache the next morning; consequences of the drink. Topped with that, the sour thought of your trip’s conclusion bogged everything down further. By tonight you’d be taking a plane back home - back to normal. And back to work.   
“I actually have to go back to my hotel room,” you started as you grabbed two bags and shakily lifted them. My coworker’s probably going crazy worrying about where I am. But… I’ll see you at the airport, maybe. Well, you fly first class, I’d assume, so if not I’ll see you next time. It’s too bad you’re not the director anymore. I’d rather do weekly reports for you than you-know-who.”   
He sat on the edge of his bed, listening patiently to your little ramble. Finally, he replied, “Next time then, Ms. Bellevue.”  
“Toodles!” you smiled as you walked out before he could see the blush appeared on your cheeks  
******  
“I barely saw you yesterday, and you weren’t there when I woke up today or yesterday!” Raquel exclaimed.   
You giggled a little. “I should tell her the truth, but… there’s always the ‘old-time friend here in Switzerland excuse. No - I need to tell her, or it’ll be complicated. I’ll tell her later.” you contemplated. “Actually, after I ask Theodore whether I should tell anyone or not.”   
“Girl, trust me, you can have all the tea on our plane ride back! We’re going to see the botanical gardens and town square, just like we planned, right?”  
“Yes ma’am!” she replied enthusiastically, and you two practically skipped to the bus from your hotel to the city center.   
Wandering this particular garden, a bustling marketplace, and eating a scrumptious lunch at a fancy restaurant did not let you down, and unlike other vacations, this one was anything but disappointing. Especially since spending two nights and one whole day with him really excited your experience. Even though you were basically a wasted heap on night two. A multitude of photos clogged your phone storage now, but there were no regrets.   
“I’m so sad we have to go back to work next Monday! Thursday, Friday, and today all went by in a blur.”  
“If you find a suitable partner here, you don’t have to.” you teased your best friend.   
“You’re right, but I couldn’t bear to leave you and the other girls in the Finance department,” she sighed with a pouty lip.  
“Ohhh… don’t worry, my poor Raquel, you’ll find your man someday.” you reached over and embraced her tightly. “I hope Mr. Wells will claim me as his, so I don’t have to work either,” the enticing notion occupied your mind. It would be so wonderful if you could be Theodore’s wife.   
A snap in your face - from Raquel - “snapped” you out of your thought bubble. “Earth to Juliette…” she joked. “It’s 3 and we have to get ready to leave now. Wouldn’t want to miss our flight. I mean… I would but we have to go back to work, you know.”   
Now you were making a pouty face. “Ugh. Alright then, let’s head back girly.” you walked towards the bus station, but your imagination was still elsewhere.


End file.
